Chapter 23: Three for Tea

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Omen trudged behind the two humans, who were hissing a whispered argument back and forth, and the four elves, who occasionally gazed back at him with horrified fascination. He resisted the urge to flatten his ears back lest the clay encasing them crack.

"I'm telling you, we should keep a low profile. We're superheroes, our secret identities--"

"Oh please, who's going to recognize us here? What, you think we'll find the Poison Ivy sipping a chlorophyll smoothie in Elfville?"

"You joke, but she does have an affinity for forests and trees and things."

"Huh! Not the kind that spit out Woodland, I'll bet. One look at him and she'd take up clearcutting." Booster cast a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the pony. "Speaking of which, why on earth . . ."

"Shhh! Later." Ted nudged Booster and made a slight but meaningful gesture towards the elves.

"Oh, them!" Booster's voice warmed. "You don't have to worry about them."

"You didn't seem so confident when they were trying to impale you," Omen grunted.

"It was all an innocent misunderstanding. I know they're good. I can just feel it, can't you?"

Omen's head bobbed in time to his hoofbeats as he grimaced. He could feel it. A strange elation thrummed through his veins and the world seemed unusually vibrant. He even had a desire to sing, although he tamped that down without too much effort (having a reputation to maintain and all.) Elves had presence.

Stepping up his pace, the white stallion muttered to the two humans out of the side of his mouth, "Remember to keep your mouth shut about certain things."

"Huh?" Booster roused himself from some inner reverie.

"Keep your mouth shut," Omen insisted. "Beetle will fill you in on the details." He looked over at Blue Beetle and found him contemplating the fairy folk with a faraway expression.

"I'm gonna measure them. And then I'm gonna build a robot based on their dimensions. It'll be a masterpiece of grace and fluidity. It'll have lasers," Beetle said dreamily.

Omen rolled his eyes towards the sky in despair.

---

As they proceeded into the heart of the woods, scrubby bushes and sunburnt wisps of yellowing grass were replaced by lush ferns, brilliant wildflowers, gurgling brooks. Deer and rabbits stepped between the trees to stare with melting longing at the elves. Booster was enchanted by the wildlife, Omen was neutral, and Beetle was frankly irritated by them.

"How am I supposed to invent when I'm practically tripping over badgers and things?" complained Ted. "Not to mention all of the--damn it, there they are again!" He covered his head as colorful songbirds wove past them, singing harmoniously and carrying flowers. "I feel like I'm in an Alfred Hitchcock movie! When are we going to reach civilization?"

"Right . . . now!" Elindrenadrenadir proclaimed as he swept back a silver-leafed bough, revealing a valley dominated by towering trees enormous in size, some big enough that that doorways had been carved into them. Elves walked down smooth dirt roads weaving between the trees, or hurried up staircases spiraling around the hulking trunks, or leaned on the railings of the walkways stretching from one tree to another.

The humans and pony gazed at the magical scene.

"It doesn't look like civilization to me," Beetle said. "Where's the McDonald's? Where's the strip mall? Where's the smog?"

Elindrenadrenadir's lips pursed and he didn't say another word as he stalked down the trail leading into the valley.

"Where's your sense of humor?" Ted added as he followed the elf. "Oh well. It'll all be worth it if they have something to eat. Lead on, MacDuff! To the table!"

Ted had almost inured himself to the dazzlements of the small party of elves they were traveling with, but the elven settlement set him awash with new waves of glee. A desire to run, skip, and do handsprings burgeoned in him, but at the same time he felt too tranquil to act. Even Omen was prancing slightly. As for Booster, he waved at random elves while wearing a grin that Ted, even in his elated state, critiqued as dopey. Additionally the blond hopped forward with his feet together every few steps. Beetle puzzled over this for a few minutes before reminding the Corporate Crusader, "Your flight ring doesn't work, remember?"

"Oh. Oh, right!"

A savory smell led them to an elegant pavilion. Elves sat on benches on either side of a long table, while a second table held all manner of food--golden crusted pies, steaming stews, strange and brilliant fruits, wedges of rich cheese, and many more delicacies that made the travelers' mouths water. In fact, the table was loaded with everything except . . .

"Meat? No meat?" Ted said as he piled his plate high with pancakes and drowned them in syrup.

"Can't keep your bloodlust under control for a minute, can you?" Omen chided, helping himself to cookies. "Of course there's no meat."

"Where does the GRAVY come from, then?" Beetle said, triumphantly wielding the gravy ladle.

Omen greeted the question with half a shrug, busy helping himself to pumpkin pie.

Several elves looked at Beetle and Omen curiously as they sat down, Ted sitting on a bench and Omen sitting on the floor at the end of the table. (Booster was still hovering by the buffet, carefully constructing a corral out of carrot sticks.)

"Food, real food," Beetle groaned with happiness, lightly spraying crumbs across the table.

Omen delicately licked a flower made of pink sugar icing off the chocolate cake, leaving an imprint of his tongue in the fudge frosting. "Sweet, sweet chocolate, how I have missed you!"

"Look at you goofballs," Booster said, sitting down across from Beetle. But he said it amiably, and one of his cheeks was puffed out with a pastry besides.

Neither Ted nor Omen answered him and all three concentrated on eating for a happy half hour. Beetle finished his pancakes, went back to the table, and returned with a plate split between a generous slice of quiche, and a kind of sweet and sour salad. Booster ate a little of everything, followed by a lot of everything. Omen focused on cinnamon buns, cake, and pie ("ponies need a lot of sugar," he explained, with his mouth full) but tested mashed potatoes, a handsome wedge of cheese, and fried daylily buds as well. He had a second plate ready with buttered rolls and a bowl of stew, if he ever got to it.

By now the trio had a full audience; elves had abandoned all manner of pretense and stared openly at them, murmuring to one another in fascination. Perhaps they were amazed by the depth of the visitors' appetites, or perhaps they simply didn't get visitors very often, or perhaps Omen's lumpy red skin fascinated them. It was worth noting that none of them sat too close.

Leaning one elbow against the table, Booster lazily balanced a fork on his finger, shifting it back and forth under the handle of the unsteady fork until it clattered to the table, which it invariably did. Ted chewed a mouthful of quiche very slowly, his face slightly green. But Omen had a stomach three times as large as a human's, and though he wasn't plowing through the food with the same gusto he'd had at the start, he thought he could manage a few more mouthfuls. Pulling an elegantly carved wooden bowl in front of him, he extended his lips and slurped up the steaming stew.

Ted closed his eyes at the sound, a pained look on his face as he swallowed his well-masticated bite of quiche down. Booster gazed away from the pony, trying to disassociate himself from him. He studied the elves instead. They were gaping now, whispering to one another and directing their perfectly formed fingers in Omen's direction.

Well, they've probably never seen such sloppy manners before, Booster thought in embarrassment. He snuck a glance at Omen while shaking the crumbs out of his napkin.

After a pause, he took a second look.

The clay-red pony's lips were now a smudgy yet unmistakable white.

"Ahhh!" Booster kicked Ted frantically under the table.

"Ow! What . . . ahhh!" Ted lurched to his feet, upturning a pitcher of cream as he boggled at the pony. "OmmmMY, oh my, look at the time! We've had a long day--"

"A very long day," Booster chimed in. "We should get some sleep!"

"Right now!"

"Immediately!"

Omen snorted, blowing a fleck of dried clay into the stew. "It's barely afternoon, you weirdos."

"Yes, but we're tired. All of us. Including you," Ted said firmly.

"Especially you."

"If you think I'm abandoning the first good meal I've had since entering the Rainbow-forsaken wilderness," the Clydesdale growled, leaning protectively over the dishes.

"Then we'd be absolutely right. Right, Booster? Right. So wipe your face--" (Omen's eyes bulged as Beetle recklessly jammed a napkin into his mouth.) "--and let's go."

Despite the muffled gag, Omen made it abundantly clear that he was not going anywhere, he was not moving at all, in fact. Beetle retaliated by jabbing him hard with a fork. That got the pony moving, all right. Right at Beetle. At full speed.

They raced around and around the table, making the silverware jitter as the pony thundered by with Ted barely keeping ahead of them and Booster stood on the bench to keep out of the way. But when they started leaping over the table, Blue Beetle vaulting over the dirty dishes with Omen springing after him, Booster prudently retreated beneath the table. Several elves were crouched there already, all staring at him. An uncomfortable silence ensued, broken only by shrieks, pounding hoofbeats, and now and then the crash of breaking porcelain.

"I hardly know those guys," Booster said at last. The elves glanced at one another, then their eyes gravitated to him once again.

Embarrassed, Booster rose from under the tablecloth. "Lead him away from here," he advised Beetle, who accordingly lit off across the swishing green grass. Shaking his head sadly, Booster followed at a steady trot.